I'll Be Your Reason Why
by TaylorDann
Summary: James has a slip up in his attempted suicide.
1. A prologue of sorts

Author's note: Hey, this is my first fanfiction I've ever published, so be patient with me because I've never tried to write a multiple chapter story before. This "chapter" is basically a prologue of sorts or like a tester chapter to see if anyone would read it. :3

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the BTR boys. Only Destiny right now.

It felt like his whole body was on fire. The searing pain started in his head and rippled down his entire body. His throat being the main source of uncomfort, he could hardly breathe. He felt bile rise in his throat. It was tinged with a taste of metal. Everything hurt. He scarcely felt the hands that grabbed at him and inserted objects into his veins and throat. He had never felt such an excruciating pain before in his life. "Please, stop touching me. No. Don't help me. Just let it all be over already." These were the last thoughts James Diamond had formed before tumbling into a deep pit of utter darkness.

This wasn't the first time she'd been here before. Pills lined up in front of her, bottles of liquor and a shiny new blade. Mentally, she crossed out the first two options, for they hadn't worked for her before and she picked up the razor blade and crossed the room to the tub. Lying down on the floor, she took the blade and pressed it against her forearm, hard and dragged it across. Immediately beads of a crimson colour appeared and dripped onto the carpet. Two, three, four more lines connected with her biggest vein she could see, although that was becoming hard to find with the blood everywhere. Dizzy, she reached and ran the water and let her wrist fall underneath it. Oh, what the hell? she thought as she picked up the bottle of Citolopram and whiskey, she threw back as many of the little pills as she could and downed it with the whiskey. "Please, let this work this time. Please just take me away, sweet angel of death." These were Destiny's last thoughts before she let the dizziness engulf her into pitch blackness.


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the BTR boys, although I wish I did. D: 3

The night before...

"Hey James, aren't you coming?" Kendall questioned.

"Naw, I don't feel so well. I think I'm just gonna go home and lie down." James responded with a shrug.

"Are you sure? I mean, we're releasing our third album soon and mom wanted this to be a sort of, celebratory dinner."

"Yeah, I know. Tell her I'm sorry. I just really don't feel good."

"Alright... bye." Kendall waved and hopped into the car with the rest of the boys.

James had just turned around a corner on the way to his apartment when he felt arms on his shoulders, spinning him around to face a bigger man, with short brown hair and pitch black eyes.

"Hey James, why haven't you called me?" the man asked.

"Whoa, Vince. What are you talking about? Get your hands off of me." James said trying to shove the unwanted arms off of him, but they just held tighter, pinning him against the wall.

"You. Didn't. Call. Me," Vince said with emphasis on each word, "Last Friday, at the party, after well- you know, you said you'd call me, and you didn't. I thought we were going to get together again."

"Dude, you know I'm not gay. It was just a one time thing, ok? We were both drunk, that's it. I didn't know what I was doing or saying." This wasn't the first time James had been in position. Although Vince was definitely the biggest man James had ever been with.

"But you liked it though, didn't you, James? C'mon, the least you could do is suck my dick after standing me up."

James could feel Vince's eyes burning all across his body, eying him up.

His response was cut off as fat, chapped lips crashed on his own.

It was only a second before James managed to lift and knee and collide with his stomach, "Fuck off."

James watched as Vince's arm retracted from his shoulders for a second only to realize he was pulling it back and aiming for his face. He felt the blow vibrate throughout his entire body. His eye swelled immediately. Through swollen, squinted eyes he saw Vince grab for his shoulders again and pushed him down onto his knees.

"If you don't do this for me, I'll tell everyone you're just one giant faggot, and you don't want that do you?"

James' face and head hurt so badly, but he did what he was told.

"If you tell anyone, I'll fucking kill you." were Vince's last words as he zipped up his pants and took off the opposite direction as James.

James had barley made it inside his bathroom in his apartment before he fell the ground and vomited into the toilet. He spat the nasty taste of Vince and bile a couple times before flushing the toilet. He leaned against the toilet and placed his head on the lid, sobbing silently, chest heaving. When his breaths finally stared slowing, he didn't move but started singing to himself softly, a sad tune by an unfamous band named Jamestown Story. "Time has run out, for me. Everything's distant and I don't know what to believe. It's so hard, lost in the world's confusion and I need to leave for awhile. Life is so meaningless there is nothing worth a smile. So goodbye, I'll miss you."

He finally stood and walked into his kitchen, eying a bottle of bleach lying in the nearby closet. He picked it up and headed into his room, still singing. "And I'm sorry, but this is my fate. Everything is worthless. There's no one who wants me to stay and I'm sorry but I've waited too long..."

He laid on the floor and reached under his bed, groping around until he found his hidden bottle.

"_So here's my goodbye. No one will cry over me. I'm not worth any tears_." he finished, and unscrewed the bottle of Whiskey and took a large gulp. The liquid burnt going down his throat, but it was a good kind of burn. A satisfactory kind of pain. This was it, the end, finally. The end to all the numbness, the hurt, the constant feeling of never being good enough... never being anything, really. He unscrewed the bleach, stared into the white liquid, it was much like what he had spat out just earlier. The all too fresh memory made him shudder. He grasped the bottle firmly, lifted it to his lips and let it slide down his throat. The immediate burn shocked him and he almost stopped but he forced himself to continue. He could almost feel his throat burning inside out. The pain was too much and he gave into the blackness.

When he awoke the first time, it felt like his whole body was on fire. The searing pain started in his head, where Vince had hit him earlier and rippled down his entire body. His throat being the main source of uncomfort, he could hardly breathe. He felt bile rise in his throat. It was tinged with a taste of metal. Everything hurt. He scarcely felt the hands that grabbed at him and inserted objects into his veins and throat. He had never felt such an excruciating pain before in his life. "Please, stop touching me. No. Don't help me. Just let it all be over already." These were the last thoughts he had formed before tumbling into a deep pit of utter darkness.


End file.
